


Rectification

by FourCornersHolmes



Series: MCU Misadventures [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A Bit Not Good, All Aboard, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Steve Rogers, BAMF Tony Stark, Blame Aryagraceling, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Did I Mention Angst?, Divergent Timelines, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, Multi, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Rules? What Rules?, Satan sits on my shoulder and pokes at me to write angst, Sorry Not Sorry, Stony - Freeform, Stony Feels, Time Travel Fix-It, Time travelling Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?, mentioned relationships, no i am not sorry, yes I went there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCornersHolmes/pseuds/FourCornersHolmes
Summary: A new year has dawned, a new life is within grasp, a chance at the happiness he never got to enjoy properly. But Steve Rogers may not live long enough to see any of it. He knows he loves Tony Stark, he wouldn't be in this mess if he didn't, but he's not sure if Tony Stark loves him. The Tony Stark he's gotten to know in the 90s is a very different person from the one he met in 2012 and fell in love with over time. But when his Hanahaki Disease stalls again at Stage 4, he begins to wonder. Maybe? He just has to survive long enough to find out if this is a mutual thing. He'd sure like to think it is, because he adores Tony.





	1. Bittersweet Things

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up immediately after Endgame: Amendment. This does not start out very happily, but I promise to do my best and change that! I love my boys and Christ knows they've suffered enough. *eyes the Russos and gathers her Stony boys close* I think Satan's been a bad influence on me lately, this has been a hell of an angst ride! I love you, Ary, but I don't love you THAT much.

* * *

* * *

Following a very enjoyable New Year’s Eve with Tony, Steve accompanied Tony to his appointment on the 2nd to see Doctor Strange in follow-up as promised. Tony was still early-Stage 3, just beginning to cough up flower petals, so his recovery would be relatively straight-forward. But as soon as Strange, much younger in this timeline than the one Steve had left behind, saw Steve, his eyes widened and you could have heard the man’s heart clench in sympathy. After finishing up with Tony, which didn’t take _that_ long, Strange cleared his schedule and sat down with Steve to talk. He left an hour later with an appointment reminder in his pocket and the confidence that he had not misplaced his faith in Strange’s gifts and talents.

 

“Captain Rogers. A real honor, sir.” Strange said as they shook hands at Steve’s first appointment the following day. Tony was, of course, with him.

“Likewise, Doctor Strange.” Steve smiled, “You come highly recommended.”

“So, yesterday we spoke at some length regarding your condition. You said Stage 4?”

“Yes.” He coughed, covering his mouth with one hand, felt the tightness in his chest. Strange handed him an emesis bucket to catch the blooms he coughed up, studying the torn petals curiously.

“What are these? Do you know?”

“A, um, friend of mine said they were probably forget-me-nots.” He looked over at Tony, who stood right beside him as he sat on the exam table. Tony just smiled and took his hand, giving a gentle squeeze. Strange nodded and carried out the exam quickly and efficiently, smiling to himself when Tony climbed up on the table next to Steve.

“I’d like to run a few more tests, get a few scans done, just to get a good, solid baseline of comparison and a better picture of what I’m up against with you, Captain,” Strange said once he was done with his bit.

“Of course.” Steve just nodded. Strange left the room for a few minutes, returning shortly with orders for a full spectrum of imaging tests and a handful of blood and urine tests as well.

“I’ll meet you back here, the nurses will bring you back to this room.” He said as he offered Steve a stack of print-outs. Taking the papers, Steve made his way to the proper department in the hospital and started the process. Time to see just how bad it really was. This wasn’t going to be a fun few hours, was it?

 

Steve had endured far worse than a few hours of medical testing, but he had to admit that it was definitely not something he would care to repeat any time in the near or distant future. For one, he felt so sorry for the poor tech who had to find a vein for the contrast-dye they would be using for the CT and MRI. She looked at his arms and her face just crumbled.

“Oh my _God_.” She whispered sadly, stroking the mottled, thickened skin with gloved fingers, her expression crestfallen. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said, offering a wan smile. “Do your best, darling.” And she did her best, managing to find a vein among the network of gnarled roots embedded in his skin. Placing ports and lines, the needed blood-samples were drawn and he was sent along to start the imaging tests. Due to his extremely limited mobility, Steve had a urinary catheter, just for his own sake. It wasn’t fun, but it was necessary.

 

Two hours later, the nurses returned him to Doctor Strange’s office and left him in the exam room, and he lay on the exam bed, contemplating his future, whatever it was. A soft knock on the door was Tony, who came over and took his hand.

“You okay?” Tony asked hoarsely. Steve just shook his head. Talking wasn’t really something he wanted to do right now, he felt kind of nauseous and the less he moved or talked, the better.

“Okay. That’s fine, Steve. I’m right here, okay?” Tony squeezed his hand gently. “I’m right here and I’m not leaving you.” Steve smiled behind the oxygen mask and tightened his grip on Tony’s fingers.

It wasn’t long before Strange came in, looking at a chart in his hand. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good news. Not that Steve had realistically expected any good news.

“Well?” Tony asked once the door was closed, a little harsher in tone than Steve would have been. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”

“Hanahaki Disease affects everyone differently, but I’m fairly confident Stage 4 should have killed Captain Rogers by now. For whatever reason, it hasn’t.” Strange said carefully, putting up a series of films. “It has barely progressed, but its progression is enough to warrant hospice care. I would definitely suggest palliative care if he refuses any surgeries.” At which Steve and Tony _both_ shook their heads. No. Absolutely not.

“I thought as much. I’ve looked into your records, Captain, and noted that the Army put you on medical leave. Not medical discharge on disability, just medical leave?”

“They were…uh, I think they were hoping that he would find a cure before he ran out of time.” Tony looked at Steve, who kept his eyes closed even as he nodded.

“Understandable.” Strange sounded grim. “Is it you, then, Mr. Stark?”

“Yes, sir. I’m going to…uh, I’ll stay until I can’t anymore.” Tony cleared his throat. “Can I take him home?”

“Of course. I’ll send orders along for a hospice team to visit your residence since I doubt you’ll be interested in assisted living?”

“Steve wouldn’t want it. I’ll look after him at home.” Tony said firmly. So, with discharge papers in hand and orders sent along to the proper authorities, Steve and Tony went home to the Chelsea penthouse. It was a very quiet drive, Jarvis drove them home from the hospital, but it wasn’t awkward. Tense, but not awkward. It took both Jarvis and Tony to get Steve to bed, which he kind of hated. But nothing for it, he needed that kind of help whether he liked it or not.

 

Steve slept until the hospice team arrived and listened as Tony talked with them and arrangements and adjustments were made as needed. Damn near everything would be done by Tony and Jarvis, with help from a couple of hospice-nurses, who would live on-site in one of the spare bedrooms. It wasn’t ideal, it wasn’t how Steve wanted things to be, but all he could do was hope for the best. He knew Tony cared about him, but that didn’t matter if Tony didn’t _love_ him. Steve loved Tony dearly, desperately, so completely he was now toeing at the threshold of death for it. But was it mutual? Time would tell, but Steve was running out of that. Something had to change.

* * *

* * *

 


	2. System of Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Tony's side of things. Is it more than "just friends"? Can Tony find it in his bitter, jaded heart to really, truly love someone? Can he find it in his heart to love someone like Steve Rogers? More importantly, can he save Steve Rogers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I got the characterization right for Tony, but I did my best! A bit more grief here for my boys, but I promise I won't make them suffer for very long.  
> **  
> Changed the title. I wanted to use "Annihilation Of Afflication" somewhere else!

* * *

* * *

Of all the things Tony Stark had ever seen himself undertaking at the age of 21, inheriting his father’s corporation was big enough. But then he found himself caring for an ailing Steve Rogers, who was suffering from end-stage Hanahaki Disease at the age of 40. Tony himself suffered from Stage 3 of the illness, and couldn’t begin to imagine the misery wrought upon a body by Stage 4. And Rogers was a Super Soldier, which almost made it worse. His body would be in a constant state of attempting to repair itself, but unable to keep up with the spread of the disease through the veteran’s cardiopulmonary system and, potentially, beyond.

 

Steve was still in the United States Army, but he hadn’t been formally discharged from service. At the moment, he was on mandated medical leave, it was basically a chance for him to find the source of his disease and either find a cure therein or live out whatever time was left to him. If he managed to find the unknown missing loved one and recovered enough to return to formal duties, they would delist him from MLD and return him to normal deployments. If not, he would be honorably discharged on medical and left to live out his days in whatever comfort he could find.

 

Tony just wanted Steve to make a recovery, if that was even possible with Stage 4 as advanced as his. And for someone like Tony who had never really _cared_ much about someone else or what they thought of him, it was hard to transition into a caretaker role. But with Steve, it was almost too easy. They had been friends for almost a month before Steve’s Stage 4 sapped the energy and life out of him, and Tony had really started to enjoy the time they spent together. And that was more than he’d expected.

 

In fairness to himself, Tony was _not_ doing this alone, he had a small network of people who assisted him, but the majority of the daily care fell to him. Bucky stopped by once a day and stayed an hour or more, sometimes just sitting, sometimes he talked to Steve and told him about how his day had gone. Doctor Strange also visited on weekly check-ins, and Tony appreciated that. And a friend of Bucky and Steve’s would come by every now and then, an intimidating man who told Tony to just call him “Fury”. Bucky told him that his name was actually Nick Fury, and he worked for a government agency called S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony wasn’t real fond of Fury, but he sure didn’t mind the cat that came along. Goose was her name, and she was apparently not just a cat. Tony didn’t know what exactly Goose was supposed to be, but he adored her. And she would spend _hours_ curled up on Steve’s pillow, keeping him warm and purring in his ear. She also kept Tony company, when she wasn’t with Bucky or Fury. And, of course, they had Jarvis to help out.

 

As time passed, he noticed little things changing. Not obvious things, but just small things. A big thing that did change was the degree of Hanahaki Disease they suffered, and the rate at which it went into remission. Tony’s went into near-full remission very quickly, less than two months, but Steve’s took a bit more time. It seemed to have stalled, which was almost worse than further progression. Tony couldn’t imagine losing Steve, he didn’t want to think of a world without Steve Rogers in it.

“Please don’t leave me alone, Steve.” He begged one night when he knew Steve was asleep, though he almost never woke up for more than a few minutes anymore and was more or less comatose. “I can’t…please don’t leave me, Steve. I can’t lose any more people I love.” He wasn’t even sure if Steve could hear him, but he had to say it. Losing his parents had been devastating, even if he hadn’t always gotten along very well with his father, and the idea of losing Steve too just…he wasn’t sure if he could take another blow like that, another loss.

 

But then, something changed for Steve. Tony noticed one morning that Steve’s skin, nearly blackened and brittle,  embedded with twisting root-systems, was smoother in certain patches and more of a dirty grey shade than the blackish-brown it had been. He called Doctor Strange to report this subtle change, it had been nearly six months since Steve had entered home-hospice care and it was the first time any of them had seen evidence of improvement. Any sign that the disease was going into remission at long last, that maybe Steve had a chance at a full recovery and a marginally normal quality of life.

 

After that first incident, Steve continued to improve. He was off of all life-support by October, and by Christmas, his skin-tone and texture had almost returned completely to normal. His coughing-fits were sporadic and for the most part unproductive. He still coughed up petals occasionally, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been.

 

Christmas Eve found Steve and Tony sitting in a familiar exam room at Metro-General Hospital. (They were waiting for Doctor Strange after another round of tests, and while they were fairly confident that he would have _good_ news for them, the likelihood that it would all good news was to be taken at face value. There had to be some not-so-good news, especially considering how long Steve had been sick, and they were fully prepared to take what they could get. Even a few more months was better than nothing. A knock on the door preceded Strange’s appearance, and Tony looked at Steve, who was on supplementary oxygen by nasal cannula even six months after his recovery began in earnest. He reached over and took Steve’s hand in his, linking their fingers together and giving a gentle, supportive squeeze.

“It’s gonna be okay, Steve. Whatever this is, whatever he tells us, we’re in this together. We do this together, alright?”

“Okay.” Steve gave him a wan smile. “You didn’t have to stay, though.”

“I didn’t stick around this long because we’re _just_ friends.”

 “‘Til the end of the line?”

“‘Til the end of the line.” Tony repeated, “I _promise_.” The door opened and Strange came in, looking at the chart in one hand.

“Well, Captain, I can’t say I was hoping for a miracle, but I guess I should know better with the likes of Steve Rogers on my patient-roster,” Strange said as he closed the door with one hand and the chart with the other. Crossing the room, he put up a slew of new images from the latest round of imaging tests.

“I’ve seen less improvement on worse patients, and on sounder patients alike. You might just be a miraculous recovery from end-Stage 4 _Hanahaki B_ _._.”

“Really?”

“These are from your scans in January, and then the tests I ran in June. These are today’s.” He pointed out three distinct sets of images. “As you can see, there’s been remarkable progress of remission over the past twelve months.”

“It stalled out in June, didn’t it?”

“April.” Steve coughed. “My skin started clearing up in June.”

“Oh, right.” Tony smiled, looking at Strange again. “So, Doc, what’s the verdict?”

“If you hadn’t waited as long as you did, you might have avoided transplant surgeries.” Strange looked quite grim. Ah, here was the “but” moment.

“But?”

“But the scarring and rate of deterioration on your cardiopulmonary organs are too great even for your enhanced biology and physiology to compensate for. You’re doing much better now than you were even in September, but unless we take some kind of preventative action sooner than later, you may find yourself in serious trouble down the road.”

“How long?”

“Maybe another ten years, maybe twenty if you’re really lucky.” Strange sighed, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry, Captain. I wish I had better news.”

“You just gave me another few decades, which is about what I would have had regardless.” Steve tightened his grip on Tony’s hand, feeling the tremor in the younger man’s fingers. “Let me think about transplant surgeries.”

“Of course. And it will take some time to find an ideal candidate.” Strange looked rather sorry he couldn’t give them better news, but honestly, Tony hadn’t been expecting _any_ good news. And neither had Steve. This was just something they would have to take in stride together, as they did with everything in their lives over the past year.

“I’ll see you in a month, and every two months after that until we can get you in for the transplant surgeries,” Strange said later as they went over discharge orders.

“Alright.” Tony got to his feet and took Steve’s hand in his. “We’ll be in touch, Doc. Thanks for everything.”

“Merry Christmas.” Strange held out one hand to Tony. “See you in the New Year.”

“Thank you, Doctor Strange.” Steve said, shaking hands with Strange, “You’ve been really…helpful.”

“Part of what I signed up for.” Strange smiled and saw them on their way. Jarvis was there to drive them home, as always, simply asked how Steve felt as he held the door of the car for him as Tony gave him a hand out of the wheelchair. He knew Steve hated the wheelchair, but sometimes it was the only way he could get around.

“I’m good, Jarvi. Thanks.” Steve just smiled at Jarvis as he gave the same answer as always. “Good days and bad days, y’know.”

“Yes, sir.” Jarvis gave Steve a kind smile and looked at Tony, his expression concerned.

“Home, sir?”

“Thanks, Jarvi.” He got in behind Steve and Jarvis closed the door for them and loaded the wheelchair into the trunk of the car.

 

The drive back to Chelsea was quiet but not uncomfortable. Steve held Tony’s hand tightly, dozing off along the way as he always did. Tony thought for a moment of the small box he had been carrying around for about a month, waiting for the “right moment”. Soon, he promised himself. Soon.

* * *

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know I stole the "Til the end of the line" quote from Steve and Bucky and gave it to Steve and Tony. I'm not sorry. This is not Stucky. This is Stony. Tony is in this for the long haul, for as long as Steve will have him.


	3. Merry Christmas, Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is here. Steve and Tony get some good news and some bad news, and Tony makes a promise. Gifts are exchanged, promises are made, and Steve is just glad he has friends to celebrate with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much what it says: Christmas with friends and loved ones. Plans are made to search out the wreck of Johann Schmidt's super bomber, The Valkyrie, that Steve crashed in the Arctic Shelf in 1945.

* * *

* * *

Steve wasn’t certain what he had expected when he saw Doctor Strange in follow-up for his Hanahaki Disease, but nothing he had been told was entirely unexpected. Knowing that he was a prime candidate for transplant surgeries, probably sooner than later, was actually kind of a relief. They would have to be very picky, very precise, about the candidate they found as a match, but Steve wasn’t terribly worried. Something would work out. When they got back to the Upper East Side townhouse that Tony and Steve had bought together three months after they “got serious” right after New Year’s, they had time to sit down before the bell sounded.

“That’s probably Bucky and Fury.” Steve coughed a little. Tony just smiled and settled down on the couch next to him as Jarvis went to answer the door to their guests.

“It was nice of you to invite Nick Fury along.” He said, taking Steve’s hand in his, he had always enjoyed holding Steve’s hand even when it was more blackened, rooted skin than actual human flesh. No one else, except maybe Bucky, would have stayed with Steve this long. And Bucky had known Steve before the advent of Captain America.

“It seemed like the right thing to do. I mean, he’s practically my boss and he’s definitely my friend, anyway, so it kind of makes sense. And he doesn’t really have a lot of family to spend the holidays with.”

“Still, most people I know wouldn’t invite their _boss_ to celebrate Christmas with them,” Tony said with a shrug. “Do you think Fury brought Goose along?”

“Probably.” Steve smiled at the change of subject. “She goes wherever he goes these days, so I would imagine she came along for Christmas Eve.”

“Is that why there’s two gifts wrapped with her name on the tags?”

“Why were you looking under the tree, Stark?” Steve asked, eyebrow raised. “Counting presents, were you?”

“Nah.” The cheeky genius beamed at him.

“Huh.” He wondered if Tony had discovered the small box wrapped in brown paper, hoped he hadn’t. Steve wanted to save it for later.

 

Getting to his feet, a slow process but not an exhausting one, Steve shuffled over to the tree in question and inspected the pile of gifts that had grown slowly over the last month.

“What are you doing over there?”

“Looking for something.” He glanced over his shoulder at Tony and smiled, “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Stark.”

“Don’t believe you.”

“Didn’t say you had to!” He rolled his eyes and went back to searching. Finding the box he wanted, he tucked it into a pocket and went back to the couch.

“Feeling your age, old man?” Tony held out one hand to him.

“Who’s an old man, huh?” He sat down again, groaning a little, and leaned his head back.

“Technically, you’re old enough to be my father. Don’t look it, of course.” Tony just squeezed his hand.

“Jerk.” Not meaning a word.

“Love you, too, Cap.” He could hear the smile in Tony’s voice.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Mm?”

“You okay?”

“I’m alive, Tony, and it’s Christmas Eve.”

“That’s…”

“I know, that’s not what you meant.” He smiled and cracked an eye open. “What’s up?”

“You know why I didn’t leave you, right? Why I stuck around all this time?”

“A few ideas, yeah.”

“And when I said we were in this together, no matter what, back at Metro-General, I meant that. I really…”

“Tony.”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got that look on your face.” He leaned towards Tony. “What are you thinking about?”

“Well, er.” He took a sip of wine, swallowed. “Um, actually ... us.”

“You’re thinking about us, are you?” Steve grinned, “You seem to do that an awful lot, you know that?”

“It’s ... silly. I mean, we ... I know it hasn’t been long ... I ... ” Tony trailed off, a bit at a loss for words.

“What’s in your head, Stark?” Steve inquired.

“I got this a month ago, wanted to save it for something special.” Tony held out a small object, something wrapped in gaudy Mylar foil wrapping paper, and Steve took it. The paper, if he wasn’t mistaken, was printed with the stars-and-stripes motif of the American Flag.

“This isn’t Christmas paper, Tony.”

“Yeah, I know it’s not.” Tony blushed, “But…it’s your present, and I thought…I thought it fit.”

“What is it?”

“Open it.” Tony looked quickly at the door, as if afraid it would burst open and they would be interrupted. “Before Bucky walks in on us?”

“Okay.” Steve just smiled and carefully unwrapped the small gift. The themed paper was a sweet touch, very sentimental. The box inside the paper was black, familiar in size and shape, and Steve paused. Oh. Was this what it looked like?

“Tony?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He carefully opened the box and handed it back to Tony. “Ask me.”

“I’m bad at this kind of thing, y’know.”

“Just try.”

“Okay.” Tony took a deep breath and looked at the box and it’s contents before he looked up at Steve.

“It’s ... silly. I mean, we ... I know it hasn’t been long ... I ... I know we haven’t known each other for a long time ... ” Tony trailed off, a bit at a loss for words.

“Go on.” Steve prompted softly.

“As you know, things haven’t been easy for me lately; and meeting you ... Yeah, meeting you has been the best thing that could have possibly happened.  You ... you know how bad it’s been for me, and ... well ... ”

“Why are you so nervous, Tony?”

“I just ... I realize we’ve been together for a year, living together for a year, and ...”

“You know, you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“Don’t be mean. I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I’m not being mean! You have these little habits when you’re flustered.” Steve chuckled at his indignation, “You know I love you, right?”

“Steve.”

“And I’m obligated to pick on you when you get like that.”

“Steve!”

“Yes, dear?”

“Shut up.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll marry you.” Tony gave him a level look.

“What?"

“Steve, I know it hasn’t been long, I know we haven’t known each other for a long time.” Tony turned the box over in his hands, nervous and out of his element. “As you know, this last year hasn’t been easy for me; and meeting you ... meeting you has been the best thing that could have possibly happened.”

“You said that already.” Steve looked at him carefully, curiously. “What are you up to?”

“I’ve realized how ... important you are to me. Have been for a while. You ... you came into my life when I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to.” He kept his gaze averted. “You showed me compassion. For someone like me, in that position, it was amazing to be treated like a human being, like I mattered.”

“Tony Stark, you are brave, careless, kind-hearted, brazen, an absolute bastard on your worst days. But I know this about you, I know everything about you.” Steve looked at Tony, his gaze soft but stern. “I always worry about you.”

“I know.” Tony slid from his seat, dropping to one knee by the couch with that box in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked curiously.

“Hush, and let me do it. Say no, and I’ll give it to you for a promise if you want.”  Tony looked up at Steve. “But if you’ll have me, Steven Grant Rogers, could you see your way ... if you could see your way to saying yes to this idiot and making me the happiest I’ve ever been?”

“Are you ... asking me to ... ” Steve trailed off.

“Marry me, Steve Rogers. Please. I’m asking you to be a partner to me in everything. Take my name or keep your own, just ... please say yes?”

“Oh my God, Tony. Why?”

“Because you’re my number one, Steve, I think you kind of always have been.” Tony flushed to the roots of his dark hair. “Please, Steve?”

“Please, what?”

“Please, Captain Rogers.” He took Steve’s hand, as if afraid that Steve would pull away from him. “Will you do me an incredible honor and be my partner?”

“I would be absolutely happy to.” Steve got to his feet and held out one hand to Tony. “And the honor is mine, Mr. Stark.” Getting up, Tony took the ring and fitted it in place. It was a perfect fit, and Steve smiled. The ring itself was very simple, two interwoven bands of silver making up the infinity symbol encompassed by two solid contrast bands in gold gave the ring a wreath-like appearance. 

“You don’t mind being stuck with a cranky old-timer who remembers a very different kind of world?”

“I don’t mind at all! I can’t say this about very many people I know, if any of them, but you’re the most important person in my life.” Tony smiled and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “We’ll just have to be quiet about it.”

“Oh, please.”

“Well, not deliberately outing ourselves, how about that?”

“Fair.” He chuckled, “Y’know, you don’t have to be so careful when we’re at home, right?”

“Well, we _do_ have company.”

“Who probably isn’t likely to care at all.” Steve reached into his pocket for the ring _he_ had gotten for Tony. “But I want you to have this before I completely forget to give it to you in the first place or Bucky says something about it.”

“Mine for yours, then?” Tony took the offered gift with a bright smile. “I don’t deserve you, Steve.”

“Speak of deserving something. Just open it?”

“Okay.” Tony quickly tore off the paper and studied the box for a moment before handing it to Steve, who simply opened it and handed it back.

“I think we must have visited the same jeweler, Tony.”

“I think we must have! It’s lovely, Steve! What a hell of a Christmas!” Tony smiled and let him fit the ring. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“Merry Christmas, Tony.” Steve leaned in a bit. Voices getting louder heralded the arrival of their guests to the upstairs living room on the townhouse’s third floor.

“Must’ve taken the stairs.”

“Probably did.” Tony leaned against him and Steve kissed him. Not just on the cheek, but a bit more properly. He was no pro at kissing, not by a long shot, but that didn’t mean he was bad at it or didn’t enjoy it. They were only interrupted when the door of the living room crashed open.

“Alright, you two have had long enough to yourselves!” Bucky hollered, “Bad hospitality, Stark!”

“Oh, shut up, Barnes.” Tony rolled his eyes and Steve buried a laugh in Tony’s shoulder.

“Get used to that, he’s never going to change.”

“Oh, _great_.”

“So, which of you lovebirds proposed first?” Bucky threw an arm around each of them, beaming and surprisingly sober. Just in a very good mood.

“He did.” Steve looked at Tony.

“God bless you, my son! I hope you know what you’re in for with this one!”

“Bucky.”

“I think I can handle Steve Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, but I appreciate the warning.” Tony just looked at Bucky and grinned, “I’ll give you a call if I need an extra hand or two.”

“Call _him_.” Fury said, pointing at Bucky, “Leave me out of that nonsense!” They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Just for that, Fury, you’re invited to the wedding!” Tony said with a chuckle. They couldn’t formally get married right now, but as soon as they were able to do so, he would make sure to marry Tony Stark good and properly.

 

Tony got drinks for Bucky and Fury and they sat together and chatted for a while until Jarvis called them to the dining room to eat. The conversation flowed from topic to topic and Bucky asked about their follow-up with Strange that afternoon.

“I hope it was _good_ news this time?”

“Oh. Well. Uh.” Steve looked at Tony. “Sort of?”

“Sort of? It was good news or it wasn’t, which was it?”

“Well, the disease has gone into full remission, that’s the good news.”

“What’s the bad news?” Fury asked curiously.

“I only have maybe ten years left if I don’t get transplant surgeries in the future.”

“Who the hell would even come _close_ to matching you, Steve? You’re absolutely like no one else!”

“I _know_.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“Keep my fingers crossed and hope a match surfaces before my time’s up.” He shrugged and looked at Tony, who took his hand. Neither Bucky nor Fury seemed to care about the small gestures of affection shared between Tony and Steve, which was comforting. It was quiet for a while before Fury spoke up.

“Well, what about _The Valkyrie_?”

“The what?”

“ _The Valkyrie_. Schmidt’s ship? The one you crashed in the Arctic Shelf in 1945 after losing the Tesseract?”

“Oh.” Steve frowned. “What about it?”

“Well, clearly you’re already alive in this timeline or whatever, and clearly that ship is buried somewhere in the Arctic ice.” Fury took a sip of his beer and raised an eyebrow, fixing his one good eye on Steve. “If the ship is there, I’d be damned if this timeline’s version _of_ you wasn’t still aboard it, frozen in suspended animation or whatever bullshit kept you alive until they found your body in 2012.”

“But without _The Valkyrie_ , we don’t have anything.”

“Then we find _The Valkyrie’s_ crash-site, we recover the body, and take what we need.” Fury shook his head. “Just because you survived once is no promise you would survive again.”

“Well…”

“We could talk to Strange about it,” Tony said quietly, grip tightening on Steve’s fingers. 

“After New Year’s?” 

“Fine. You talk to Strange, _we’ll_ talk to our people.” Bucky looked at Fury, “We’re going to need our boss’s clearance for this one.”

“You take General Shaw, I’ll handle S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yeah. That sounds good to me.” Bucky nodded and looked at Steve. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ve got your back.”

“You’ve always had my back, Buck.” Steve smiled and picked up his wine. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” They all replied, raising their own glasses.

“Hope the new year’s a good one,” Bucky said with a grin.

“It sure looks to be a better one than this last year was.” Tony just looked at Steve and hid a smile in his wine. Fury rolled his eyes and muttered something about sappy public displays of affection.

“We’re not _in_ public, Agent Fury.” Bucky teased. Steve chuckled and counted his blessings. He wasn’t exactly sure of what the new year would bring with it, but it was bound to be a very interesting one.

 

He hadn’t actually considered the possibility of searching for the crash site and recovering this timeline’s Steve Rogers. He had just kind of resigned himself to a significantly shorter life-span because of the effects of the Hanahaki on his cardiopulmonary system and his body overall. His voice would forever be rougher, at least half an octave lower because of esophageal scarring, and his skin might be more prone to scaling and roughness, but those were manageable symptoms. He was already doing much better just since September, but unless he found a donor, he would probably suffer various ill side-effects of the crippling, terminal disease for the rest of his natural life. Reduced stamina would definitely be a concern, it had already made itself a problem as Steve began to recover. Time to play a little game of wait-and-see.

* * *

* * *

 


	4. Hold My Hand And Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are settling down a bit for Tony and Steve. Steve notices a new symptom/side effect of his Hanahaki, but it's not really one he minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of Peggy Carter and Pepper Potts, and the recovery of The Valkyrie (which originally takes place in 2012, not 1993).  
> ::  
> Thanks to my brilliant little Babs (RussianWitch) for the idea of "flowering tattoos" as a flip-side to traditional Hanahaki, and for letting me use her idea in Rectification. Love you always, dearie!

* * *

* * *

At the one-month follow-up with Doctor Strange, Steve brought up the plan to seek out the wreck of _The Valkyrie_ to recover this timeline’s Steve Rogers and potentially use _him_ as the donor Steve so desperately needed.

“Well, if the required organs are undamaged and still in good condition following the crash in ’45 and the cryo-comatic state of the victim over the past forty-seven years, I don’t see why there should be any real issues.” Strange looked at Steve’s chart, “I mean, in all honesty, there shouldn’t _be_ any other consideration.”

“That’s what we were thinking,” Steve said softly, looking at Tony. “Bucky and Agent Fury are getting permission from their commanders to launch an exercise to search the Arctic Shelf for _The Valkyrie_ , they’ll start immediately if they get clearance and resources.”

“Keep me informed of that, then, Captain. I’ll do my part.”

“Thank you.” Steve sighed with relief and felt Tony squeeze his hand in support. “I’m … glad I found you. I can’t imagine how differently things might have gone if I’d seen someone who might not be as familiar with Hanahaki Disease as you are.”

“I’m very glad you came to see me, Captain Rogers, it’s been a pleasure and an honor to help you.” Strange smiled as they all go to their feet. “I’ll see you in two months, but I expect to hear from you before then. You have my numbers, you know how to get hold of me.”

“Of course. Thank you so much, Doctor Strange.” Steve smiled at the man, still after all this time trying to reconcile the much older Stephen Strange he had known in the 21st century with this timeline’s younger, less experienced Stephen Strange. This one had a bit more … empathy, less ego. At least, at this point in his life he did.

 

After that first follow-up appointment, Steve and Tony settled in to wait for word from Fury and Bucky. Every day seemed better than the day before, but Steve knew nothing short of a complete transplant -would allow him to live a full, productive life. His enhanced physiology could only compensate for so much and he had no desire to tax his system the way he had before finally going to see a doctor.

 

Every follow-up after the first one yielded better results and more promise. Despite the evidence that Steve’s body was slowly beginning to heal and repair itself, they still knew that finding this timeline’s Steve Rogers was their best and only viable option. But that was simply a waiting game they were unhappy pawns in, without news from Bucky or Fury they could only hope for the best and anticipate the worst.

 

Then, Steve noticed slightly unusual discoloration on his skin. He first noticed it in the shower one morning but didn’t think much of it. His skin was still brown-grey in patches and scaly in texture, so the new discoloration wasn’t really raising any red flags for him. It was almost like having eczema or psoriasis, or both at once, complete with the discoloration and itching and other rash-like behavior. He was on treatments for it, of course, and had long ago thrown body-image issues to the wind. He also ignored the whispers and gossip. It was part and parcel of being Captain America, people were always talking about him.

 

But there was something about this new symptom that was out of the ordinary, and different from the existing psoriatic dermatitis. It was subtle, at first, and in a rather unusual location. There was a patch of discolored skin on his right hip, a bizarre, dusky shade of blue, in a very strange pattern. Like fingerprints or drops of water or even…flower petals. There were other patches in other places, one on his left wrist, another on his neck, several on his fingers, and he had no idea what they were.

 

It had been four months, and this was the first time he’d actually noticed them. He noticed that they got darker as time went on, some were almost vibrant while others were still quite faint. One night, he and Tony were in bed, just relaxing after another long day, and he was rubbing Tony’s back. As he did so, he noticed something on his fiancé’s skin.

“Hey, Tony?”

“Hmm?” Tony sounded distant and soft, almost like he’d fallen asleep on Steve. That had happened before, and Steve always found it endearing.

“Fall asleep on me, there?”

“Nope.”

“Liar.” He chuckled and leaned down, kissing Tony’s shoulder. His lips tingled at the point of contact and Tony made a soft noise, something between a sigh and a moan. There was no pain in the sound, but Steve noticed. Pulling back, he blinked.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No. It…tickled.” Tony turned his head on the pillow, “What’d you do?”

“Nothing unusual.” He studied the design seemingly etched into Tony’s skin, lines of color blooming under his fingertips and where he had touched his lips in a kiss. Flower-petals. Pink rose petals, to be exact.

“What is it?”

“Looks like a tattoo or something, but it’s…I dunno.”

“Rose-petals?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think they have a name for this?” Tony rolled onto his back and looked up at Steve.

“If they have a name for coughing up flowers, they probably have a name for this.” He smiled, “They’re kind of pretty. Do they hurt?”

“No, they kind of itch, but they don’t hurt.” Tony reached up to touch Steve, smiling when a trail of forget-me-not blossoms appeared on Steve’s skin where they touched. “Blue and pink forget-me-nots? That’s interesting.”

“Says the man with pink and white rose-petals on his skin.” Steve grinned, “Think we should tell Doc about this?”

“Absolutely. He did say call for any reason. New symptoms and such.”

“This definitely qualifies as “new symptoms and such”.” Steve noticed that it didn’t happen _every_ time he and Tony touched, but the fact that it happened at all was…comforting. Promising even.

“Tomorrow is soon enough to call him, Steve.” Tony gave him that sly smile of his and Steve just shook his head.

“You have better things to do with your night?”

“ _We_ have better things to do with our night.” Tony’s smile turned into a wicked grin and Steve rolled his eyes at his fiancé’s insatiable nature. It was always worth it though, it always had been. There was something familiar and comfortable about having sex with Tony, it was never boring or forced, no always meant no, but usually meant “maybe later, lover.”  It was nice to have someone like Tony to spend the rest of his very long life with, and Steve really hoped he would have a proper chance to grow old with Tony this time. This time. What a concept.

 

As he fell asleep a few hours later, sweaty and happily worn out, Tony already passed out on his shoulder, Steve looked up at the dark ceiling and smiled.

“Thanks, Peggy. For everything.” He whispered, closing his eyes and letting the sound of Tony’s snoring lull him to sleep. If not for Peggy Carter, he would never have done this. Bucky had given him the kick in the ass, but Peggy had pushed him towards Tony Stark, knowing she wasn’t meant for him. And Bucky, of course, had pushed, dragged, and cajoled Steve when he didn’t feel like saving himself. Everything short of holding a gun to Steve’s head, and nearly that as a last-ditch effort before Steve let himself die because he was too stubborn and too proud to admit that maybe he wasn’t…what? Straight? Celibate? Happy with his life the way things were going? No. No. And absolutely fucking not.

 

But now, a year and a half into his new life in the 20th century, Steve _was_ happy. He had a future to look forward to and he was not going to screw it up because of the kind of person society _thought_ he should he should be with and love. He didn’t love women enough to settle down and marry one, but he was absolutely more than happy to make them his friends and confidants. People like Peggy Carter and Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Maria Hill, Pepper Potts. Pepper, who must have known who it was that Steve mourned for, who had supported him, reconciled with him, and given him her blessing.

 _Thanks for everything, Pepper. I’ll look after him for us until you can step up._ He promised, thinking of the patient woman who had kept Tony on the straight-and-narrow when she could. There would be more time for reflection tomorrow, for now, it was time to sleep.

* * *

* * *

 


	5. If It Ain't Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit more interesting, and Steve and Tony talk to Strange about this new development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my brilliant little Babs (RussianWitch) for the idea of "flowering tattoos" as a flip-side to traditional Hanahaki, and for letting me use her idea in Rectification. Love you always, dearie!  
> ::

* * *

* * *

The next morning, Steve was up before Tony, which was kind of normal for them, and took a hot shower. Smiling at the new patterns of forget-me-not tattoos on his skin, he got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen, where he found Jarvis making breakfast.

“Good morning, Captain.” Jarvis didn’t even turn around as Steve came in, he just continued with his tasks.

“’Morning, Jeeves,” Steve said with a grin. “Smells amazing.”

“Coffee, sir?”

“God bless you, Jeeves.” Steve took the offered cup of coffee with a needy sigh and took a sip. Jarvis just smiled and sent him to the table to wait.

 

Fifteen minutes later, like clockwork, Tony wandered down, yawning and adorably sleep-soft even after a hot shower. Steve patted the bench next to him and raised an eyebrow as Tony all but collapsed into his seat. Jarvis was, of course, completely unbothered and just gave them a smile as Tony’s head fell to Steve’s shoulder.

“Did I wear you out that much, Stark?” Steve teased, poking Tony in the side.

“Oh, shut up, Rogers,” Tony muttered, yawning again.

“Love you, too, Tony.” He said as he took Tony’s hand in his, linking their fingers.

 

Breakfast was quiet, it usually was, and Jarvis shooed them out of the kitchen after they had cleared their plates to his satisfaction. The first thing Steve did was call Doctor Strange’s secretary to make an appointment to see him. If they had any availability that day, it was probably better for him to take one.

 _“What’s  your name, sir?”_ The woman said in a tone of voice Steve was far too familiar with after a year or so of seeing Strange in regular appointments. He sighed and told himself to be nice, it wasn’t his fault she was having a bad day.

 _“Rogers? My name is Steve Rogers,”_ He said calmly, _“If there are any open appointments today, I would prefer to see him sooner than later.”_ He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say that, but it seemed like a good thing to make clear to his secretary.

 _“Doctor Strange does not take walk-in patients and I can’t schedule you more than a week out, sir, I’m sorry.”_ Which was completely untrue and Steve rubbed his forehead. He knew for absolutely reliable intel that both of those claims were false. He hated it when people treated him like a moron.

 _“Can you just  do me a favor and see, ma’am?”_ He said politely.

 _“Let me take a look at his schedule for you, sir.”_ He heard the clattering of a keyboard and knew he didn’t have time to put up with this. And he didn’t _have_ to put up with this.

 _“Tell me your name again, sir? And your date of birth.”_ Both of which she should have asked him for at the beginning.

 _“My name is Steven Grant Rogers, date of birth is December 7 th of 1918. I’m one of Doctor Strange’s regular patients.” _He gave the information.

_“And why are you seeing Doctor Strange?”_

_“He saw me for Stage 4 Hanahaki DIsease that went into remission earlier this year. I would rather let him know about the new symptoms sooner than later.”_

_“Oh. And, uh, what are your symptoms now, sir?”_

_“It looks like some kind of dermatitis, but I really don’t know. I just have patches of faint pink and blue, they kind of look like flowers, almost like tattoos or something like that.”_ He looked at Tony, who sat next to him, rubbing his thumb along Steve’s knuckles, watching said patches of blue and pink appear.

 _“Oh. I … see. Well, there seems to be an opening on his schedule this morning for 9:00.”_ Well, now he had her attention properly. _“Can you make that?”_

 _“Yes, ma’am.”_ He nodded, even though she couldn’t see it.

_“Just make sure to arrive five to ten minutes early.”_

_“Yes, ma’am. See you at 8:45.”_ Steve hung up first and set the phone down.                                                      

“You were much nicer than I would have been, Cap.” Tony murmured, smiling. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Not by much! I hate that woman sometimes, I really do.”

“Well, if we have to be there at 8:45, we’d best get on the road.” Tony got up and held out one hand to Steve, “Come on, Old Man.”

“Jerk.” Steve let Tony pull him to his feet and they collected their keys and jackets and summoned Jarvis, who obediently drove them to the appointment.

 

Steve had promised to be there at 8:45, he was there at 8:45 sharp. The secretary looked slightly alarmed to see him, but he just gave her a pleasant, slightly hostile smile and sat down to fill out some paperwork. Tony sat next to him, a notebook open on his lap. He was sketching something, blueprints for some new piece of technology that would keep Stark Industries on the leading edge of relevance. It wasn’t long before Strange’s MA came for him, and he followed her to the exam-room, Tony at his heels as always.

“It’s been a while, Captain Rogers, how are you feeling?” The woman asked, genuinely curious.

“I’m doing much better, thanks, Patricia. But I wanted to ask Doctor Strange about these.” He pulled back his sleeve and showed her the flower-shaped designs on his skin. “They’ve been appearing over the past four months, but I have no idea what they are.”

“Oh, that’s interesting!” She studied the spread of tiny, delicate petals on his skin, “Do you have any warning before they appear?”

“Yes, actually. You know that sensation when you’ve been in one position too long and you go numb?”

“Like when your feet fall asleep?” Patricia Golden just smiled.

“Yeah, like that.”

“Well, that’s definitely something new and worth bringing up! You haven’t had any other symptoms?”

“None of the bad ones.” He reassured her. “Believe me, I would have been in here a _lot_ sooner if I was in recurrence.”

“Good! Let’s try to keep it that way!” She held the curtain of the pre-check stall for him. “The world needs Captain America.”

“I’ll try to stay healthy and relevant, but I promise nothing.” Steve just gave her a smile and took off his coat and shoes, handing them to Tony while they got his vitals for this visit. Strange would re-check them himself, but they always took baseline vitals for comparison’s sake.

 

Once that bit was done, it was down the hall to the exam room, and since this was not only a last-minute visit but also one of the two-month rechecks, she handed him a folded cotton exam gown.

“Everything off, you know the drill. Just prop the door when you’re ready.”

“Yes’m.” Steve ignored the sly snickering of Tony and started getting undressed as she left the room, closing the door. Everything except his underwear and socks was set aside and folded, and he sat on the exam bed, glaring at Tony, who just looked so very pleased with himself.

“Don’t look so disgustingly pleased with yourself, Stark.”

“Love you, too, Rogers.” Tony just blew him a cheeky kiss. Steve just shook his head and studied the little clusters of blue and pink flower-petals on his skin. Every now and then, he was able to find a full blossom or cluster of blossoms.

“You’re a touchy little bastard, Tony.” He mused, “They’re _everywhere_.”

“Oh, stop whining. You don’t mind them.” Tony rolled his eyes, “Besides, isn’t that better  than coughing them up in bloody clumps of material that tears up your esophagus every time?”

“Oh, sure, use that against me.” He chuckled. “I am _not_ complaining.”

“Hmph.” Tony obviously didn’t believe him, but Steve hadn’t really expected him to. Yes, he was touchy, but Steve was absolutely fine with that. It made him feel less adrift, less isolated. And he suspected that it was very much the same for Tony.

 

They were only interrupted by Patricia coming back with Doctor Strange behind her.

“Good to see you again, Captain.” Strange held out one hand to Steve. “Heard you had a bit of a hard time with my secretary.”

“She’s never really liked me, I’m kind of used to it by now.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of treatment.” Strange shook his head and looked at the chart Patricia gave him. “So, what brings you in today?”

“These.” He showed Strange the tattoos. “They’ve been showing up over the past four months, so some are darker than others.”

“What are they?” Tony asked. “I have a few of my own, same time-frame.”

“What symptoms precede the appearance of these maculae?” It was an unfamiliar word to Steve and Tony, but Strange was clearly very curious about this new symptomatic development.

“Itching, tingling, a little redness,” Steve said as Strange examined the tattoo-like marks on his arms.

“Where else have these appeared?”

“Almost everywhere, to be honest. Some are concealed by clothing, some aren’t.”

“Like this one?” Strange studied a rather dark forget-me-not blossom in blue that would be visible above the collar of a shirt or even a uniform. Steve couldn’t help blushing. Further examination would reveal some obvious marks. He knew when Strange found some of them.

“Been busy, have we, Captain?” Strange asked, clearly amused with the discovery.

“Making the best of an unusual situation.” He looked over at Tony, who turned red to the roots of his dark hair, and ignored the subtle snicker at their expense.

“Well, _this_ is a very good sign, and you say that you both have the same condition?”

“More or less. What is it?”

“I think this is a pretty clear, textbook case of Roseolar Polychromasia Anthirós.”

“What’s … Roseolar Polychromasia Anthirós?” Steve queried.

“It’s a different symptom of Hanahaki Disease, most often seen in patients that have gone into complete remission like you both have.”

“So … this is a good thing?”

“Yes, quite a good thing.” Strange smiled and finished the exam, questioning them both extensively regarding their habits and activities over the past four months. Nothing out of the ordinary, but Steve was certainly feeling more himself and his stamina was definitely improved in all the ways that mattered.

 

Before they left, Strange gave them information about Roseolar Polychromasia Anthirós, also known as Ink-Stain Inflorescence, or Insinflores (which is what Doctor Strange called it when they asked if there was a different name just a bit easier to pronounce). It seemed that the discoloration was a combination of staining and scarring, a benign physiologic reaction to the seeds and roots still embedded in the body, despite the name and the use of “Roseolar” in the name itself, which more or less broke down to “flowering stain rash”. Ink-Stain Inflorescence, or Insinflores, sounded  _much_ nicer, less ... discouraging.

 

One question they had was how transplant surgeries would affect the remaining bio-botanical matter still in their bodies, specifically in Steve’s case. Tony had dodged the transplant bullet, so it wasn’t as much of a concern on his behalf.

“How would it affect the further spread of Insinflores?” Steve inquired, legitimately curious.

“Negligible. You were so far advanced into Stage 4 before you went into remission that your body will always carry seeds, buds, and root-systems, so transplant of the affected cardiopulmonary organs would very likely have little to no effect on your new symptoms.”

“And if they did?”

“Your existing tattoos would remain.” Strange reassured him, smiling at him over the top of his chart. “The appearance of new tattoos would not be terminated by transplantation.”

“Why not?”

“Isi is simply a different strain of Hanahaki Byou. A less … fatal strain, if you will.”

“It’s … the same disease?”

“Sort of.” Strange held up one hand when Tony started to complain. “It’s from the same source, but it is not at all fatal and absolutely not terminal, unlike Hanahaki Disease. It’s simply a condition that affects the dermal system, spawned by remnants of the botanical materials.”

“So … not everyone who has Hanahaki Byou gets Hanahaki Disease, but everyone who has Insinflores has Hanahaki Byou?” Steve tilted his head. He wasn’t sure if that was actually how it worked, but it kind of made sense to him.

“In laymen’s terms, that’s exactly what this is.”

“Well, that’s okay.” Steve looked at Tony, “I don’t mind a bit of good news.”

“No one ever does.” Strange nodded, “But it all depends on what your definition of “good news” is.”

“I think most people would be upset hearing that they had contracted a different strain of the same disease that very nearly killed them, but if this isn’t going to _hurt_ either of us, I don’t see that we have much room to complain about anything,” Tony said quietly. “They’re kind of … pretty, anyway, and I don’t really mind.”

“Even the visible maculae your clothes can’t hide?”

“Nope.”

“If it becomes a point of controversy, there are different methods of covering up visible tattoos, why are these any different?” Steve rubbed his knuckles. There was a cluster of forget-me-not blossoms and petals that trailed from his wrist along the back of his hand down his first two fingers, a subtle shade of blue. And really, he had seen other soldiers with very similar markings on their bodies, and no one had ever seemed to care.

 

Tattoos, within certain standards, were allowed among service members in the Armed Forces, and apparently, the tattoos left by Insinflores were an acceptable motif. So he wasn’t actually _that_ worried about someone raising a fuss about his tattoos. All they could do now was wait for word from Bucky and Nick Fury about _The Valkyrie_ , hope for good news, and maintain the familiar, comfortable routine they had established over the past year and some.

* * *

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::  
> A bit of background on the new "disease" that Steve and Tony are experiencing :  
> Roseolar Polychromasia Anthirós, also known as Ink-Stain Inflorescence, or Insinflores. The discoloration was a combination of staining and scarring, a benign physiologic reaction to the seeds and roots still embedded in the body, despite the name and the use of “Roseolar” in the name itself. Which more or less breaks down to roughly translate to “flowering stain rash”. Ink-Stain Inflorescence sounds MUCH nicer, don't you think?  
> I spent far too much time on this, I changed the name at LEAST six times, and this is what I came up with at the end.


	6. Genesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another year has come and passed for Steve and Tony, and they get some news they've been waiting for.

* * *

* * *

It was nearly Christmas again by the time they heard anything of the recovery efforts going on in the Arctic Shelf, and Steve had returned to his duties with the Army, assigned to a desk-job until further notice due to his recovering health. But the minute he was back to 100%, it was back into the field for him. And that was okay, it’s what he was used to.

 

Steve had a follow-up with Doctor Strange two days before Christmas, Tony accompanied him as always, and he received another bill of good health. Strange was confident that once they recovered the body of this time line’s Steve Rogers, they would be able to perform the necessary procedures fairly quickly, if not almost immediately. The body would, of course, have to be repatriated back to the United States, but they could act as soon as that had happened.

 

With that news, Steve thanked Doctor Strange again for his time and efforts and went to report to his commanding officers to let them know. They were pleased to hear that he was doing better still from his previous appointment and informed him that they had received a report from the field, from Fury and Bucky. Steve felt a little dizzy, knowing it could be good news or bad news at this rate.

“Have they found it, sir?” He asked of General Shaw, who looked at the report in front of him and then up at Steve and smiled. That would be an affirmative.

“Oh, thank God.” He felt a twinge of relief in his chest. “You’ve … er, you’ve been in touch with S.H.I.E.L.D., then, sir?”

“Yes, I have, Captain. They have as much stake in recovering that super bomber as we do, son, more perhaps.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed, Captain.” Shaw closed the file and held it out to him. “You can take this, it concerns you rather intimately after all.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But don’t let that get into the wrong sort of hands, son, that’s all highly-classified information you’ve got there.”

“I understand perfectly, General.” Steve tucked the file under one arm and held out his free hand to Winston Shaw. “Thank you so much.”

“Hopefully the next time I see you in here, you’ll be coming back to active duty, son.”

“I sure hope so, sir.” He nodded, offered a proper salute to Shaw. “Until next time, General.”

“Until next time. Good luck, Captain Rogers.”

“Merry Christmas, sir. My best to your wife.”

“You, too, Rogers. I’ll tell Miranda you said hello, then?”

“Please do, sir. See you in the New Year.”

 

Leaving General Shaw’s office, Steve went home to tell Tony the good news. If he didn’t know already. Taking the Metro home, Steve found a seat in a rather crowded subway car when some kind commuter offered her seat to him.

“Oh, no, I’m alright, ma’am.” He tried to turn her down, but she just gave him a steady look and got to her feet.

“Young man, you just sit down right now.” She had that look in her eyes, “You risk your life for the rest of us, the least I can do is give you my seat. Now. Sit down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve did as she said and took her seat, she settled into the empty seat beside him. She glanced at the file in his lap and raised an eyebrow.

“Did you get some news today, Captain?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did. Good news, actually.”

“Good news is always a welcome thing.” She just smiled and patted his arm. “You have a very lucky man at home, I hope you can stay in touch when you go back out there.”

“Oh, I’m not ... ”

“Stop right there. I know what it looks like, my boy Mitchell never was very fond of the girls growing up.” She gave him a sly wink, “We keep it quiet, of course, but I never _ever_ judged my son for loving different.”

“God bless you, ma’am. Plenty of people would judge and too many of them do.”

“It’s always worse when you live under scrutiny, isn’t it?”

“Much worse.”

“Well, I’m not going to say anything. And you never make it obvious to the public.”

“I try not to. Speculation is only so reliable, but sometimes that’s more than enough to get you into trouble.” Steve shook his head and wondered if there would ever come a day when he could be open about his sexuality. There had been no real recognized military ban until the 80s, and anyone who had been serving in the military up to that time had simply kept it to themselves or risked discharge. Steve had served in the 40s, and homosexuality had absolutely been frowned upon.

 

Things hadn’t really changed all that much in that regard, but he was very good about keeping his mouth shut. And he would keep it that way until such time as he could be completely open about his sexuality and his intimate relationships. For all anyone knew about Steve and Tony, they were just best friends, they absolutely never showed affection in public beyond the acceptable touches and banter. Behind closed doors was different, and even then they were extremely cautious.

 

Getting off when his stop came up, Steve headed for home after he had thanked the woman for giving up her original seat and keeping him company. She wished him luck and a Merry Christmas as they parted ways. He was in a _very_ good mood as he let himself into the townhouse. Jarvis was there, of course, and took his coat.

“Thanks, Jarvis.”

“You heard good news, Captain?” Jarvis indicated the file in Steve’s hand.

“From both Doctor Strange and General Shaw.”

“Mr Stark is in the workshop, sir, if you would like to go down.”

“He hasn’t blown anything up, has he?”

“Mm. Not today, no.”

“Good, he’s getting smarter.” Steve grinned and headed downstairs to the converted storage areas in the basement that Tony had turned into a workshop. Despite the top-quality soundproofing, he could still hear the music blasting from the speakers as he came down the stairs and let himself into the workshop. Aerosmith was the choice of the hour, it seemed. He had to admit that the sight of Tony dancing to the music was never going to get old. The day he didn’t smile when he caught his fiancé grooving to the music-choice of the hour by himself would be a sad one indeed. And probably a sign that something was seriously, _seriously_ wrong with the relationship. Steve just smiled, shaking his head as he scooped up a remote and turned the volume down a few decibels. He knew better than to yell over the loud music.

 

Tony quickly turned to see why the volume had been turned down and broke into a goofy smile when he saw Steve.

“Damn. Have I told you how smoking hot you look in uniform?”

“Every time you see me wear it.” Steve chuckled, letting Tony do his usual prowl. “What did I interrupt this time?”

“Nothing too important.” Tony gave him a long look. “Nothing more important than whatever news you have for me?”

“Smart man.” Steve smiled and held out the file General Shaw had given him.

“What’s this?”

“They found it, Tony.” He said quietly as Tony flipped the file open and read through the contents, gaze quick and alert.

“They found _The_ _Valkyrie_.” It wasn’t a question. “And Captain America?”

“Yes. They’re going to repatriate the body back to the United States as soon as they have safely extracted it from the wreckage, and then it’s in Doctor Strange’s possession until transplantation can be done.”

“That was fast.” Tony took Steve’s hand, “Are you nervous?”

“Of course I am.” He sighed, knowing better than to lie to Tony about something like this. He wasn’t just nervous, he was outright distraught. Excited, because he could live a full, normal life if this actually worked, but distraught because he couldn’t stop thinking about the “what-if’s”, the worst case scenarios.

“Hey.” Tony squeezed his hand, “Hey, Iceman.”

“What?”

“Stop. Worrying.” Tony smiled up at him, “We’ll be fine, alright? We’ll get through this together.”

“I can’t help it, Tony. I know it’s silly to worry, but I … ”

“I’m not leaving you, Steve. Not after all this time. I plan on staying in your life as long as you’ll have me.” Tony’s expression smoothed into something properly serious as he traced the colored lines on Steve’s skin. “These are not an accident, these are not a mistake. This is us. This is not something I regret.”

“I’d like to have you for the rest of our natural lives together.” Steve said, “Please stay with me, Tony.”

“I’m. Not. Leaving.”

“Okay.”

“Especially not over something like this.” Tony leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him. It was perfectly distracting, which was probably Tony’s whole goal in the first place.

“Wh-what was that for?” He asked when he could focus.

“I didn’t say yes to you out of pity or obligation, Steve.” Tony’s expression was soft yet stern. “I said yes to you because you’re the kind of person all of us should strive to be, and I’d be a complete fool if I turned down someone I’ve always looked up to.”

“Really?”

“You were my biggest hero growing up, I always wanted to be like you.” Tony reached over and used the remote to turn off the music before picking up the file and leading Steve by the hand out of the workshop. “But I never thought, not once, that I would ever have a chance to meet you, let alone a chance at having you to myself.”

“And when you got that chance?”

“I knew I had to be smart about it.” Tony looked over at him as they went back upstairs together, “I don’t know about you, Rogers, but I’m in this for the long haul.”

“Till the end of the line?”

“Till the end of the line. And beyond.” Tony promised, smiling. “Come on, it’s Christmas, I’m not about to let you get away with moping around and feeling sorry for yourself.”

“You never do, Stark.” Steve squeezed Tony’s hand. Tony was more than a friend, and Steve would do whatever it took to make him family. They went up to the living room after getting shooed out of the kitchen by Jarvis, who told them not to worry about a thing, he knew what he was doing. They just looked at each other and smiled, rolling their eyes as Jarvis went back to managing dinner preparations, giving orders to the kitchen staff.

 

Steve wasn’t sure exactly what he had expected to happen when he’d made the choice to travel to the 90s in pursuit of something he hadn’t had a name for. He had a completely different future ahead of him, but the future looked pretty good to him and he still had the family that had been such a fundamental aspect of his life in the twenty-first century. And that was _so_ important, especially considering the life Steve had left behind.

* * *

* * *

 


End file.
